


Home is where the Hart is

by Kogeki



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eggsy helping her feel at home, Family Feels, Harry had a daughter, Harry trying to be a good Dad, Harry's childhood explained, M/M, Maya learning what family means, her name is Maya, she's American
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-04-29 21:34:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14481645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogeki/pseuds/Kogeki
Summary: “Merlin, why the fuck there’s an American girl yelling at me in Harry’s house?”“Oh, I see you’ve met Maya. It’s a bit shocking, isn’t it? They look nothing alike.”The one, where Harry has a daughter, who's American and has to take care of her. He doesn't know how to ba a father, Maya still can't wrap her head about the fact the she has a father, they both are emotionaly consipated individuals that have no idea what a real family is like. Luckily, they have Eggsy with Michelle and Daisy, and Kingsman agents to help them find the right path.





	1. Meeting Maya Hart

**Author's Note:**

> So the Maya character was heavily inspired by the actual Maya Hart character from Girl Meets World (which I didn't watch unfortunately).   
> She's played by Sabrina Carpenter and [in this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3WFrwzn4BI) you can get the feel of how she is
> 
> The first chapter is Maya's first meeting with Eggsy in Harry's house and it's kinda introductory, hope you'll like it

The first thing Eggsy does after every mission is go to Harry’s house.

He doesn’t know why, doesn’t really think anything of it. Harry gave him the spare key ages ago and the guest room is practically his anyway, full of his spare clothes, a few suits and all of the things he left there and doesn’t really plan on bringing back to where he lives with his mother and sister. He abuses the spare key frequently, sometimes he picks up the lock, when he forgets where he put it. And Harry never minds. He likes having Eggsy around as much as Eggsy likes just being at Harry’s house. It’s a win-win situation.

He knows Harry’s on an emergency meeting in HQ in Berlin, but Harry not being home never stopped Eggsy from going over to his house after a mission.

He showered at HQ and put on jeans and a navy polo shirt, and he hasn’t had time to eat. Between debrief with Merlin along with the pestering about taking care of the gadgets and turning on his glasses even if he  _ doesn’t get along well  _ with Elyan. 

Which is a _ fucking understatement _ by the way.

He’s immediately in the kitchen - shelves opening and closing. He knows where everything is by heart, since Harry’s a fucking workaholic and he forgets to eat until he finishes  _ just this one report, Eggsy _ , so it’s Eggsy’s personal mission to cook him something if he has the time. He even didn’t burn the rice this week. Fucking progress, yeah?

There are steps - quiet and hesitant - ascending the stairs and Eggsy’s brain mustn’t work properly, because Harry’s supposed to be at the meeting? Or he came early? Because he knows for fucking sure that Harry’s security system is as good as the Kingsman one, both frequently checked by Merlin himself. So it doesn’t add up. Especially that it’s not boots he hears, but bare feet of someone petite.

His heart stops. What else he’s supposed to think, but the first thing that comes to mind at those implications? Petite=woman, bare feet=nude or just out of shower/bed - and he’s cursing his heart  _ you stupid fucking wanker  _ for beating for Harry for the last three years, while Harry’s clearly not interested in him that way.

The last thing he expects is getting attacked with a curling iron in Harry’s kitchen, while holding bread, jar of jam and honey in his arms with having no way of defending himself.

He looks down,  _ down  _ at the person who made a swing at him and petite and bare feet, yeah, but teenage girl with blonde hair?  _ Who… _

“The fuck are you?” Is out of his mouth, before he even has a chance to think.

“Who the fuck are  _ you _ ?” She grits her teeth, tightening her hold on the curling iron and raising it as if to make a swing at him again. “How did you get in here?”

He puts the jars and bread on the table -  _ slowly _ , not making sudden movements.

Tiny american girl? In Harry Hart’s house? Yeah, no. What the fuck?

So Eggsy doesn’t know what the fuck is going on here, but he knows who will.

“I’m gonna call Merli-my friend, okay? So, no hitting for now.” He tells her, reaching into back pocket of his jeans and holding a phone, for her to see.

She squints her eyes at him, but nods at him to continue.

He taps something on his phone, pretending to pick out the number, but as he holds it close to his ear he clicks the button on the glasses turning them on.

“Merlin, why the fuck there’s an American girl yelling at me in Harry’s house?”

“Oh, I see you’ve met Maya. It’s a bit shocking, isn’t it? They look nothing alike.” Merlin sounds as calm as ever.

“What?”

There’s a pause.

“You do know, who she is, don’t you?” Merlin actual sounds a little wary.

“ _ Merlin _ .” Eggsy actually growls, because now’s not the time to get tight-lipped, after babbling so much.

“It’s not mine story to tell, Eggsy. It’s-”

“Harry’s,” Eggsy says with a cold feeling of dread at the pit of his stomach.  _ They look nothing alike. _ He stares at the girl in front of him, eyes wide. “She’s Harry’s…” It is not a question.

“She’s Harry’s daughter.” Merlin says bluntly. “Sorry you had to find out from me, lad. I’m sure Harry’ll explain everything, when he gets back.”

“Yeah. And when he gets back?”

“He has a flight in fifteen minutes. He should be in London by eight.”

“What the fuck I’m supposed to do ‘till then?”

“Cook dinner, play Scrabble, I don’t bloody know.”

“Yeah. Fuck you, too, Merlin.”

“Eggsy,” Merlin sighs. Eggsy can imagine him rubbing his temple with two fingers in the beginnings of a headache. “It’s a tight situation as it is. Don’t make it worse.”

Before Eggsy has a chance to respond, Merlin turns the coms off.

Eggsy squints his eyes at the cell in his hand as if it’s holding all the answers. Finally he looks properly at the girl in front of him. She’s got blond hair reaching her waist and red rimmed light eyes. She’s wearing ripped black jeans and denim jacket over an AC/DC t-shirt. She’s so short, he guesses she doesn’t even have 5 feet on her. But her eyes are fierce, when she looks at him expectantly.

She looks nothing like Harry. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s Harry’s daughter.

_ Daughter. _

“What?” She nearly snarls, jutting her chin proudly. “Disappointed?”

Eggsy feels like he’s having some out of body experience. He’s seeing Eggsy from other time first meeting Harry Hart outside that police station, doing the same thing - jutting his chin, squaring his shoulders, snarling  _ Who’re you? _ to the stranger. Like he doesn’t give a fuck about the answer either way.

More like because he didn’t know what to do.

Because he didn’t know anything else.

That kind of attitude is a carefully constructed self-digged hole that one develops in need of a safe place and not finding one in the outside world.

Harry Hart could crack the walls from the beginning.

Eggsy Unwin makes mistakes, but never twice.

“My name is Eggsy Unwin. I’m a friend of Harry’s. Wanna grab a bite with me?”

He’s on a thin ice here and he prays to whatever-the-fuck for it to work.

After a moment the girl lowers her weapon on the table and sticks her hands in her back pockets, pose of casual nonchalance.

“Maya Hart.” She doesn’t go for the niceties, doesn’t do polite, doesn’t care enough for a handshake. Eggsy can work with that. “I already ate.”

“I’m hank marvin, Maya, so you have to watch me stuffing my face, even if it doesn’t do good for first impressions.”

“Harry got you beat on that.” She snorts, self-deprecatingly.

She takes a seat at the table, forearm propped on the back of the chair. She watches Eggsy as he does his magic and brings the pancakes to life with jam, whipped cream and fresh strawberries Harry bought this morning.

“So what’s the deal with you?” She asks bluntly. “He didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

Eggsy’s heart skips a bit at the word, but he doesn’t go after the bait. It’s not enough to rile him up. 

“Tha’s ‘cause he doesn’t have one.” Probably. Fuck. “Wanna tea?”

“Coffee. Black.” Eggsy turns on the coffee express Harry got from him last year on Christmas, and Eggsy uses it more, while Harry keeps drinking his teas. “So why are you here anyway?”

“I was hungry.” He pours the coffee in the blue KEEP CALM AND LOVE EGGSY UNWIN mug - another present from Eggsy - without thinking, but it’s too late anyway so he puts it in front in her and goes to pour the water into another mug, - yellow with a dancing cat on it, not the red KEEP CALM AND LOVE HARRY HART, because that would be more than a bit weird.

He brings his mug and the plate with toasts to the table and sits down.

It does not go better after that. There’s a tense silence Eggsy has no idea how to fix. He’s good as spewing nonsense, always was, but this feels different somehow. This isn’t yet another posh bastard he has to put in his place or a posh bird he has to charm as a distraction for Roxy to off her husband. This isn’t Roxy or Merlin he can joke about with. This is someone close to Harry, someone angry and sad, and Eggsy doesn’t want to fuck it up for Harry or for himself. 

This is new and Eggsy is out of his element.

“We work together at Kingsman,” he deflates as she raises an eyebrow at him, disbelieving, so much like Harry it has to be Eggsy’s brain looking for bits of Harry in her. “The tailor’s?” He finishes slowly. He takes a long sigh and looks her in the eye, bracing himself for his next words, “Okay, Maya, let’s be honest, yeah? I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on, either. We don’t know each other, and the only person who we both know,” He ignored her snort and something she murmured under her breath,” He fucked off to Berlin for the moment. And so until he gets back we can not talk to each other and watch a film or get to know each other better, whatever you want, I’m up for it. Open communication, alright?”

The chair scrapes against the wooden floor as she stands up, her eyes stormy, expression tight. “You don’t have to stay here and I don’t have to talk to you or watch a film with you or-or anything! I don’t need a babysitter, so you can fuck off now.”

Sharp as a knife, she is and Eggsy has a half a mind to let her have her way and resign himself to the fact that this is a problem he can’t fix. He stands up, too, looking at her and seeing a kid, who doesn’t know what to do with her anger. He sees Daisy puffing her cheeks and stomping her leg on the ground with crossed arms, when she doesn’t get her way.

So Eggsy does what he always does, when his sister’s in one of her moods. He doesn’t let himself be angry in return. It never got him anywhere, and he saw what it can do to both persons at the end of conflict.

“I get that I’m a stranger to you, Maya. And I’m not gonna give you a pep talk because of Harry. You’re old enough to figure out your own shit. I just… I don’t know, didn’t want you to be alone in this weird fucking house with it’s weird fucking stuffed dog in the loo-”

“In this weird fucking country.”

“ _ Weeell _ , you Americans have your own weird shit, too, not gonna lie.” He snorted and saw as Maya’s lips quirked up. His face softened. “If you really want me gone, then I’m gonna go. But you don’t have to sit here by yourself for the next three hours, until Harry gets back.”

She stands in the middle of the dining room, lips in a line, frown on her face, considering. Eggsy swears her bottom lip at one point shakes, overwhelmed and when she opens her mouth, her voice is quiet, defeated, “What film?”

Eggsy doesn’t ask about her life or the reason she ended up here. He shows her secret stash of Harry’s rom-coms and she looks more judgmental than amused, so they actually end up on the sofa with pizza and 7-ups, watching Shaun of The Dead.

  
  
  


By eight Maya’s sprawled on the sofa, asleep. 

Eggsy maneuvered her in a proper position, putting a pillow under her head, and throwing a blanket over her tiny body. Someone’s going to wake her up and put her in a proper bed, ‘cause the couch is a piss poor substitute, but he guesses Maya’s back can take much more than his. So he lets her sleep for now. 

He’s just helping himself to a cup of tea in the dining room, finishing the report for his mission in Malta, when the front door opens.

He jumps from his seat and practically flees to the foyer. He enters just as Harry’s setting his duffel bag on the ground. He toes off his oxfords and rubs his left eye with his fingers. He looks up only to see Eggsy standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. He sighs, as if he’s been expecting it the moment he heard footsteps.

The first thing Eggsy notices - beside a rumpled navy suit - is that Harry looks tired, exhausted even. He has bags under his eyes so visible he looks like a panda more than a man. Eggsy feels his heart ache in sympathy. 

Eggsy’s heart doing weird things in Harry’s presence is a daily occurence and something he stopped denying some time ago. His feelings for the older man - for whatever they may be - won’t keep him from giving him a piece of his mind, though.

“Harry.” he starts, reaching for him. Then stops altogether, proceeds to stand with his arms by his sides. He doesn’t know what to say, he realises with a start. He doesn’t know what to ask, what to even begin with. 

It’s too much, suddenly. He prepared this great speech in his mind while watching the movie, but he can’t squeeze a word of it past his lips.

“She’s asleep on the sofa,” is what he settles with. It’s a fact. It’s simple. It won’t make him do and/or blurt out something he’ll regret later.

Harry just stands there, looking at him and Eggsy starts to feel nervous. And when he’s nervous he starts to babble. “I came after the mission and there was this American girl yelling at me, right, and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, Harry.” He hisses, keeping his voice quiet. “I couldn’t just let her stay here alone, you get me? ‘Cause if it was me, I’d be fucking terrified.”

“I… Didn’t expect the call from Berlin.” Harry finally says, and his voice is rough. It’s a cowardly move from him, bypassing the elephant in the room altogether, they both know it. But they let it pass for now. “I tried to talk my way out of it, but it was an urgent matter, requiring Arthur’s presence. The meeting took longer than expected, but I managed to come back in six hours. I know I shouldn’t have left her alone, but this house is the safest place I can actually think of and she said she would be fine… I’m… I don’t know what to do, to be honest.” Harry smiles self-deprecatingly.

He forgoes the bag for the moment and heads to the liquor cabinet, but he seems to think better of it and goes to the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove. Eggsy follows hi like a lost puppy. He always does.

Harry sits on the head of the table, put his hands on his head, ruining his perfectly combed hair. He sighs again the sigh Eggsy knows very well - like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“D’you want some aspirin or something?” Eggsy asks, cursing himself for the soft tone of voice that comes so easily, when Harry’s tired or he has a headache. At even the slightest wince from Harry Eggsy turns into this soft placating darling that is a weird caricature of his mum, when she’s taking care of Daisy and his own protective instincts. It generally worries Eggsy how he’s so tuned to Harry’s moods, but he lost all hope by now of explaining some things.

Currently, though, he’s mad at Harry. Yeah, he’s mad. He should be mad, right?

Before Harry answers Eggsy goes to the medicine cabinet and takes two aspirins. He fills a glass with tap water and puts them both on the table in front of Harry.

“Thank you, Eggsy.”

Harry takes the pill and drinks the water. Eggsy busies himself with the tea, adding a splash of milk to Harry’s favourite one with the name Eggsy still can’t pronounce.

He finally sits beside him, tea on the table, waiting. If Harry wants to talk, Eggsy will listen. If he doesn’t, Eggsy doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He needs at least one thing. Needs the confirmation that... 

“Maya is going to stay for a time.” Harry states. He doesn’t sound happy or sad or anything, to be honest. He’s simply stating a fact. 

“Does she… I mean, did something happen to…” Eggsy bits his bottom lip. He knows it’s not fair, but he needs the answer. He needs to make some sense out of this whole situation.

Harry nods. “But I don’t know for how long. Weeks, months, maybe years. I am all Maya has now.” He laughs and Eggsy immediately hates this laugh. It’s bitter and it doesn’t suit Harry Hart he knows. “I am no father, Eggsy. I cannot give her what she needs.” It’s a hushed confession, nothing more than a whisper.

“Did you know about her?”

“I knew, yes.” Harry finally, finally meets Eggsy’s eyes. It feels intimate, somehow. Hushed words, shared breath. “I met her when she was two. She doesn’t remember me, of course, she was too young to know. She didn’t know who I was or what I was, or that I was still alive to today morning. And yet, I am her only family left.”

“Harry? You know you need to be there for her.”

“I don’t know how.”

Eggsy wants to do something for him to ease out the pain, the confusion he feels, but there’s nothing he can do. It’s a decision Harry has to make and follow through. Eggsy can offer him only a kick in the arse.

“She’s here. You will not hide from her ever again, Harry Hart, for as long as she’s here. Not everybody gets the chance to get to know their family as you two have. It’s a lot to process. Give her time, and give her choice. Give  _ yourself  _ time.” Eggsy curls his fingers around Harry’s palm without thinking and squeezes. Let's go almost immediately, unsure. “I’m right here, if you need me. You know that.”

“I do. Thank you, Eggsy.” Eggsy stands up and stifles a yawn that tries to break out and Harry’s lips curl in a smile. “Is it your bedtime, young man?”

Eggsy shoves at his arm with a grin. “Oh, fuck off. I spent fucking awful forty eight hours in Malta with Elyan’s nagging.”

“Oh.” Harry winces. Everyone knows Galahad and Elyan despise each other, but especially Harry, because it’s him Eggsy whines to, when the frustration is too much. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault. I better go.” He points his thumb behind himself and takes a few steps backwards. “I tell you all about Malta next time, yeah? You just take care of everything here for now, alright?”

Harry nods and takes a few steps forward, when Eggsy steps back. “Of course. You should rest, too. I believe you have twenty four hours until the next mission. Spent them wisely.”

Eggsy’s sends him a cheeky grin. “When have I been naught but the paragon of virtue?” He accentuates the words with his best impersonation of what he calls  _ a posh prick accent _ .

They laugh to the living room, when a movement catches their eyes.

Maya’s sit up on the sofa, staring at their figures with furrowed brows. Eggsy for some reason feels like he’s been caught stealing, mumbles a quick  _ Goodnight  _ and goes to the front door.

Harry’s smile drops, when the door closes. He and Maya stare at each other, tense silence filling the room, until Harry - as a responsible adult - decides to break it. “Would you like something to eat?”

“No.” Is her answer. She shoves the blanket off of her and stomps all the way upstairs to the guest bedroom.

Harry sighs. It’s starting to be a hell lot of a time.


	2. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Harry's routine looks after Maya moves in

Harry always wakes up with his alarm at 7:30. 

He has his routine, which usually entails going to the loo, then shower, a shave, taking his time with putting on a three piece suit. Then as he looks at himself in the mirror and he still sees in himself the dignity of his Galahad days. He doesn’t let himself dwell too much on his face - on the new wrinkles he sees with every day, on the bags under his eyes, on how he feels more and more tired with every passing day and it shows on his face.

Then he goes downstairs and makes breakfast - something light as he doesn’t really likes to it heavy in the morning, drinks Oolong with milk and honey or Grumpy Mule coffee with cinnamon reading the paper the paperboy leaves on his doorstep. Then he washed everything by hand in a traditional sink. Not one of those awful washing machines Eggsy swears are the best thing in the world, but Harry refuses to buy one. What would he clean in there? His porcelain china teacups?

He leaves for Kingsman before 9 and Peter is waiting for him in the Kingsman vehicle greeting him with a  _ good morning, sir. Lovely day not to get late, ain’t it? _ But they still almost always are about five to ten minutes too late. Because Peter even as Kingsman cab driver has to respect speed limits and traffic lights, when there is no immediate danger. 

Merlin greets him with a stink eye for being late almost every time. If Eggsy is somewhere nearby he tries not to laugh and he almost succeeds, except for how Harry can see his eyes glowing bright with the force of his amusement.

This day, though, isn’t like the others.

This day starts like this.

It’s 7:30, his alarm clock is ringing and Harry has a sinking feeling in his stomach about what’s going to happen after he leaves the bed. He remembers Eggsy’s words. He’s an adult, he has to face it, whether he wants it or not.

To be perfectly honest the idea that he has a daughter that’s a fully fledged human being with mind and personality of her own still leaves him breathless. The last time he saw Maya was when she was two years old and Cathy told him it would be better if he wouldn’t come back.

“It’s better than to getting used to waiting for you to come back and one day realising that you aren’t going to. I don’t want to put Maya through this.” She said.

And of course, Harry respected her wishes, didn’t keep any contact with them for about fifteen years. He called in a favor with Merlin, who accepted to check on them from time to time, maybe make them win some two week vacation at some fancy American hotel. Merlin was a good friend and Harry was forever grateful for him for that. One time Merlin asked him, why he wouldn’t check up on them himself - he could send him the programs, their papers, Maya’s school marks, everything if he wanted - but Harry was afraid if he’ll do that even once, if he sees any of them again, he would want to come back to them, to that simple sweet life.

But for now he gets off the bed, stretches his muscles and yawns, as he’s making his way to the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror and thinks,  _ this broken old man with a body marred with wrinkles and scars, whose hands shake and whose head hurts when he least expects it and who can’t sleep without a gun or a knife under his pillow - this man is a father of a 17 year old girl _ .

He gets on with the rest of his routine, forgoing a suit for now, but putting on a beige pair of trousers, white shirt and a gray cardigan. He hopes he looks less menacing than before.

He’s leaving his room with a specific purpose of making Maya feel at least a little bit better. And he will do anything in his own power to do so.

He knocks gently on the guest bedroom, as he done so many times, when Eggsy stayed in there. He left his iPod on the nightstand and clothes in shelves. On the flight back home from America with Maya Harry called Mrs. Devon to move it to his own room. He makes a mental note to remind Eggsy of the fact, before he goes looking for his navy pinstriped suit and he probably already forgot it’s in Harry’s house.

Harry hears soft steps, as they descend from the bed and stop just before the door. The door doesn’t open. He only gets a muffled “Yeah?”.

So she doesn’t even want to look at him. Harry immediately recovers and he’s sure she doesn’t hear the frustration in his voice. “I’m going downstairs to make breakfast. Would you like anything in particular?”

“Not really.”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He shouldn’t expect miracles from the start. “Then I’m going to prepare something. It will take about forty minutes. Until then… take all the time you need.”

He doesn’t hear an answer and he doesn’t expect one, so he goes to the kitchen. He turns the coffee machine on and spends five minutes looking into the fridge, thinking of what Maya could enjoy. The  _ ping  _ announcing the fridge has been open too long snaps him back to reality. Reality being he knows nothing of Maya’s preferences in food or drinks.

He ends up making a little bit of everything - there’s toasts, pancakes, chopped fruits, but also sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes. As a drink he decides a neutral English Breakfast Tea will be the best course of action. If she wouldn’t like it, he can always make something else.

He puts the steaming tea cups on the table as he hears Maya descending the stairs. He sits on his chair, looking for all the world like he isn’t a nervous wreck inside as she enters the dining room.

Her lights eyes quickly sweep over the room and she asks, “Someone’s coming over?” Harry shakes his head. “Then why make so much food?”

“For the two of us?” Harry feels a flush of embarrassment raising in his cheeks. He may have went a bit overboard with the food. 

He isn’t all that hungry, especially in the mornings, and he supposes not every teenage person has to have an appetite of a wolf. And he catches himself on the fact that he has always been preparing so much food for Eggsy, as the boy seemed to have an endless pit instead of a stomach.

“We can put leftovers in the fridge.” Harry suggests.

Maya nods and takes a seat at Harry’s right.

He tries to not watch her as she picks her food, instead focusing on his paper. Still, he can see in the corner of his eye as she chooses sweet things - a few toasts, strawberry jam and fresh strawberries.

He also notes how she chooses to put two teaspoons of sugar and a bit of cinnamon to her coffee.

“Do you like cinnamon?” He asks, enthusiastically jumping to the topic he knows something about instead sitting there like a fool having no idea what to say.

She looks at him as if he’s incredibly thick. She holds her spoon which she just used to put cinnamon in her tea with emphasis. “Why?” She asks finally.

“I heard liking cinnamon is a family trait.” He says, and doesn’t really knows where he goes with it, what is the purpose of this topic. “Cathy always hated it.”

Maya goes frigid at the mention of her mother. She looks hurt, but quickly schools it into her usual annoyed expression. “Did they call you?” She asks. “She’s getting better.”

Harry supposes she has Evelyn Howard’s phone number, so it doesn’t come as a surprise. Cathy’s best friend is taking care of her. Harry talked with her and he knows she’s in good hands. Mrs. Howard couldn’t afford to also take care of Maya, she’s not her legal guardian and she has four kids in the ages of 5 to 12 to take care of. Maya’s probably still bitter Harry didn’t let her stay with them, but he didn’t want to put even more in the hands of this tired woman. He even proposed he would help her family financially, but she refused and told him not to speak of money to her again.

“She is.” Harry says carefully. It’s a minefield, every word has to be calculated not to set off any of the mines by accident. “The doctors said she’s going to make it, there’s no doubt about it. They just don’t know how when she’s going to wake up. It can be days, weeks, months from now.” He knows that from his own experience. “Cathy’s always been a fighter.”

“Yeah, still is.” Maya says quietly. “Let’s not talk about her now.”

“Is there anything you would want to talk about, then?” Harry says hopefully.

“Not really.”

“Do you need anything? Clothes, food? Anything from the store?”

Maya seems a bit upset by the question, he clearly can see the crease between her eyebrows. “You won’t buy me.” She says, quipped, cold.

Harry blinks, baffled. “I assure you, it was never my intention to make you-”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” Her chair scrapes on the floor. “I’m going to my room.”

Harry looks at her white t-shirt as she disappears from sights. Then he hears a door closing with a loud  _ snap  _ upstairs. Harry rubs his eyes and sighs.

  
  
  


He goes to his office, checks in with Merlin, gets a text from Eggsy asking  _ everything ok?  _ and replies with,  _ Of course _ in a sudden burst of confidence he doesn’t have, then adds,  _ I’ll let you know if it wasn’t.  _ He smiles at Eggsy’s  _ good  _ with  [ a picture of JB dressed in some sort of a pink unicorn uniform ](https://image.ibb.co/dPtSO8/maxresdefault.jpg) . Harry snorts at JB’s wrinkly face saying all about how much he likes the costume.  _ Don’t ask ;)  _ \- a message underneath.

Harry shakes his head, putting his phone aside. He does his paperwork until afternoon. Then he prepares dinner, they eat in silence. Harry would ask some pointless questions until Maya’s expression would tell him to better stop speaking altogether. They say awkward good nights to each other. Then shower and sleep.

The next two days are exactly like this.

Whenever Harry would go to his office to do some work, he hears Maya slip out of her room and go exploring or just watching the telly in a low volume, probably hoping Harry can’t hear. Whenever he’s opening the door to his office she stirs, he can hear it, and quickly makes her way to her bedroom passing him in the hallway without eye contact or a word.

The second night day they spend under the same roof Harry wakes drenched in sweat, breathing heavy, visions of death and a finger pulling the trigger still fresh behind his eyelids.

He tries to control his breathing, raking his fingers through his hair. The watch shows 4 am. Harry guesses there will be no sleeping tonight.

He drinks the glass of water on his bedside table and then lays down, staring at the ceiling.

In the eerie silence, now that the rush of adrenaline wears down, his ears pick up a quiet noise, barely heard, but still there. 

The hot blood in his veins turns cold.

These noises.  _ Sobs _ . Tiny quiet sobs with a sniff here and there.

_ How long? How often? _ are all the questions Harry asks himself, but the most important one is,  _ How could I not notice? _

He’s a spy for God’s sake. He’s a bloody spy.

He knows why he didn’t notice though, doesn’t he? Usually he could see right through some dark makeup for the things hidden beneath. But it’s not only that she was avoiding his eyes, because  _ of course she was _ , she didn’t want for him to see the evidence of her crying.

It is simply because  _ he _ wasn’t looking.

And he should’ve. That’s his job. Not as a Kingsman but as the father of this girl. His responsibility is to make her feel safe and protected and loved. Yet, these are concepts so foreign to him he isn’t sure how to provide for others.

In this moment he would like nothing more than to jump from his bed and go straight to Maya and console her. The thing stopping him is him common sense. He’s practically a stranger to her, more so - she made it clear she resents him, blames him for leaving them alone all those years ago. He is sure she wouldn’t want any consolation from him.

So he leaves it.

Until the next night. It is 1 am and Harry just closed the door to his office and is heading to his bedroom. He stops in front of the guest bedroom upon hearing the sobs again. Not that he is looking he can see what he was too blind to see all the times before.

He taps his knuckles on the door three times and he hears as she startles, pulls tissues to wipe her eyes and/or nose and tries to calm herself.

“Maya.” He says. Her name sounds so wrong from his lips but how else he’s supposed to call her. “Please, let me in.” He asks,  _ begs _ and means it with his whole heart. He doesn’t want to get to her heart right in, he just wants a way in behind the threshold. He wants to know it’s possible, welcome.

“Just go to sleep, Harry.” She says, her voice still shaky like she’s falling apart at the seems.

“No.” He says firmly, but not threateningly.

“Then what the hell do you want?”

“To talk. Just to talk. Please. I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t want your help.”

Harry can hear she’s getting irritated. That’s the moment he usually stops. But right now he’s done, he’s tired of tiptoeing around her. He’s tired of this game they’re playing.

“But you may need it. It isn’t healthy to boil up everything that’s been happening to you.” God, he hopes she’s listening. “And I understand the situation we found ourselves in isn’t ideal. But it doesn’t change the fact that you are my daughter and I am your-”

“No!” She yells, so close to the door that Harry startles. She yanks the door open and Harry is met with his daughter who is so tiny but looks like she might tear him in two. She’s a splitting image of her mother. “You’re not my anything. And I’m not your anything. Don’t pretend you give a single fuck about me--us when you haven’t before.”

“Now, that is not true…”

“I can’t fucking believe you.” [She shakes her head, eyes red and swollen and starting to water again](https://image.ibb.co/kj9iUd/tumblr_nxgy0xe_RYD1udg635o7_r1_250.gif). “If this didn’t happen, if my mom wouldn’t ended up in a fucking coma, you would never even showed up!” Her voice is shrill, cuts clean and sharp where it hurts most. She doesn’t even realise the first tears until they form a steady stream down her cheeks.

“I thought it would be for the best.”

“For the best.” She snorts and it is so miserable Harry’s eyes begin to sting as well. “The best was for me to never know my dad? To think he died when I was little?”

It is a shock to him, too. He never knew Cathy decided to go that route, to erase his existence from their lives altogether. Still, Maya doesn’t want to hear excuses. And Harry doesn’t have any.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffs. “I am so sorry.”

Maya’s eyes flash with surprise for a brief moment before they harden again.

“It doesn’t change anything. You being sorry. It doesn’t change a fucking thing.” She’s shaking violently, eyes on the ground as she’s wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Harry reaches out, unsure. He places his palm on her shoulder, barely there. She doesn’t lean into the touch, but also doesn’t shake him off. He supposes she’s too emotionally and physically exhausted to do much of anything.

“I know. I really do.” Harry assures as he can hear her tiny sound of protest. “There is nothing I can say or do to erase my sins and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I can do nothing about the past, but I can do something about the future. From now on to whenever our time will end or you decide to have nothing to do with me I would like to get to know you. And, if you would like that too, I would like for you to know me.”

Maya just looks at their feet, at Harry’s pair of Kingsman slippers and her pink socks with watermelons. Her breaths calm down, her shoulders slump.

“Try and get some sleep,” Harry whispers and, in a moment of madness, places a kiss on her forehead. “We’re going to do something tomorrow. Whatever you like. Together.”

She looks lost and a bit frustrated, relieved in some way. She doesn’t even make a fuss, just goes to the guest bedroom. But before she closes her door she says, “See you at breakfast, Harry,” which is an improvement from the usual emotionless goodnight.

Harry can’t help the corners of his lips lifting a bit, when he answers, “See you at breakfast, Maya.”

  
  
  


Harry wakes up at 7:30 with his alarm.

Then he goes to the loo, takes a shower, has a shave and puts on his light grey suit, forgoing a jacket for the moment.

The house is quiet as it usually is at that time of day, but he knows it won’t be for very long. Around 9 is when the house lately is coming to life. There’s an awful pop-song as an alarm, bed creaking, shower being turned on then off. Finally there would be quiet steps going down the stairs.

Today there’s only sweet omelettes on the table with strawberries and blueberries - which Harry noticed earlier happen to be Maya’s favourites. There’s a steaming mug of coffee waiting for her.

Harry is already sipping his Oolong from his teacup and reading a newspaper. “Hello.” He says with a smile, feeling infinitely positive today. “Did you sleep well?”

She raises her eyebrows, looking at him like he’s a bit ridiculous. He doesn’t even mind it. She takes her usual seat at his right side and immediately goes for the coffee, humming when it’s as sweet and with as much cinnamon as she likes it. “Better,” is her answer. “Did you eat already?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m not usually hungry in the mornings.”

She nodds like that’s explains something. Harry raises his eyebrow in question and she looks embarrassed. She digs into her omelette and averts her eyes to the food in front of her.

“So, plans for today?” He asks.

She chews slowly, takes a sip of her coffee, pondering the question. Then she shrugs.

“Don’t care or don’t matter?” Harry prides himself in being well versed in subtleties of people’s body language, but that bloody shrug can mean seven different things.

“Don’t matter. Don’t know what’s worth seeing.”

“How about neighbourhood, then? We could take a walk to the market and buy groceries, and on the way I can show you an astounding bakery and a coffee shop. I guess a park is nice, too, though quite small. And I can show you, where I work.”

“The tailor shop?” She asks, sceptical. For some reason she’s still not convinced that he is a simple tailor. “Alright.”

Harry gave her a smile and she rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a big step, but their conversation yesterday changed  _ something _ . Maya was at least willing to give him a chance. A chance Harry was not going to waste.

He finally felt like he could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so late, life got in the way, but as the holidays are fast approaching I think I'm going to post a lot sooner
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments 
> 
> How do you like Maya's characterisation so far? It's easy to go wrong with OC's and I'd very much appreciate if you could tell me if something was off with her or no

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I don't even know where this is going. I have a few ideas and if you guys like it, there will be more to come, hopefuly  
> Tell me how you liked it in the comments~


End file.
